


Magic Number

by Rubynye



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Multi, Nonmonogamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:57:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie and Amita try to try something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Number

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers/Warnings: Het and Slash; spoilers for Episode 4.09, _Graphic_.  
> Beta Reader: [](http://tigerbright.livejournal.com/profile)[**tigerbright**](http://tigerbright.livejournal.com/)

Title: Magic Number  
Pairing/Characters: Charlie, Amita, and Seth Marlowe in some but not all possible combinations.  
Rating: PG-13 for kisses and implications.   
Summary: Charlie and Amita try to try something new.

"Charlie," Amita says, her voice even, "do you remember what we were talking about?"

"The line analysis?" Charlie is leaning over a pad of paper, trying to work up some equations to quantify the differences in line quality between the forged artwork and the original. At least, that's what he's doing until Amita repeats his name, slowly, with a sing-song lilt.

He glances up to find her looking steadily at him; the hair across her shoulder is shining as if the standard fluorescent had been somehow tinted golden, her eyes have the same warm gleam, and her smile is asymmetrical and devious. "What we talked about two nights ago."

He spent that night at her apartment. At first it isn't _talking_ Charlie remembers, and Amita smirks a little wider as she watches him. His face heats up under her scrutiny, and even more when he finally recalls the conversation. "Oh. Ah. Um. That."

Amita glances sideways at the door of Charlie's office. Seth went through that door about fifteen seconds before she called to Charlie. Maybe seventeen. "Yeah, that." She tilts her head, a sine wave of ripples flowing down the length of her hair. "Do you like him?"

"Well, he's..." Funny, talented, personable. Moves with a certain sleek grace. "Uh, yeah. Do _you_ like him?"

"Oh, he's _very_ smooth." Amita gestures cheerfully. "Actually, he's pretty appealing. I think I'm developing a taste for the charmingly awkward."

"Gee, thanks, Professor." Charlie gets up, exaggerating his grimace to make her laugh, something warm and a little wild and entirely unmeasurable gathering inside him. Probabilities bloom in the back of his mind, chances of success and disaster, Seth's grin before, Amita's smile now.

Amita tilts her head back as Charlie leans on the desk, and he watches his shadow slide up over her, thinking of soft cloth and warm skin if he followed its path with his hand. "I was thinking... if you wanted..." Her smile starts to slip, showing the push of courage behind it, and Charlie smiles as encouragingly as he can. "You could invite him to have dinner with us."

"Yeah, we... if you're sure?" That conversation two nights ago, the most recent in its particular series, had been mostly theoretical, slow and comfortable and drowsy in the darkness, and it hadn't so much concluded as Charlie had fallen asleep with his face in her sweet-smelling hair. "We hadn't really set a timeframe."

"No, and I didn't expect a practical opportunity to come up so soon, but..." Amita looks down as she sets her hand on Charlie's knee, and he waits until she smiles again, looking up at him again. "But I think it has, huh?" Her hand shifts a meaningful centimeter as she laughs at him, and Charlie rolls his eyes. "If you want to, I'm sure."

Charlie does, as much as he wants to kiss her. "I want to," he agrees, meshing her long fingers with his, and she nods, her eyes deep and warm, her smile soft. He's already leaning towards her, but they can hear footsteps in the hallway, so he sits up a little as they turn to the door.

Seth grins at them as he scoops up his bag. "I'll get back to you on those samples tomorrow, as soon as I can, all right?"

"That works, but, wait a sec." Charlie stands up, brushing his damp palms off on his jeans, hopefully surreptitiously. "Let me walk you out," he hears himself saying in a perfectly ordinary voice, and he doesn't look down at Amita. "Most of the doors are locked by now, so it can get a little tricky finding an exit."

"Don't want to set off the alarm," Seth agrees, his grin bright and tilted as he nods. "Goodnight, Hot Professor Ramanujan."

"Bye, Mr. Smooth," Amita calls, waving. Following Seth to the door, Charlie glances back at her for confirmation or a change of plan, and she grins brightly as she winks.

Yeah, it's still on. Charlie's face warms as he grins back, turning his head just in time to keep from walking into the doorframe.

The corridor is way too short; almost instantly they're by the door, and Charlie still has no idea what he's going to say when he clears his throat. Seth turns to him, eyebrows raised and eyes bright, and Charlie opens his mouth.

"Um," he starts, and the words begin to fall into place. "Hey, obviously this has to wait until after the case is closed, but Amita wanted me to invite you to dinner, at her place."

"Dinner, huh?" Seth tilts his head, considering. Up close like this he smells good, a little musky, a little spicy.

Charlie nods, watching Seth watch him. "Dinner, and whatever might happen afterwards."

Seth blinks, and Charlie makes himself breathe, feeling a little dizzy, trying not to anticipate any particular answer. Then Seth grins, his hands unexpected and strong on Charlie's shoulders, and he pushes Charlie back two steps into the wall, flattening him against it with a kiss.

Seth's mouth is firm and hot, his upper arms solid in Charlie's grip, and he presses Charlie into the wall with the length of his body, pushing his thigh between Charlie's legs. Charlie gasps, his chest against the flat planes of Seth's, his hips already bucking, and growls as he matches Seth's push, opening up to the kiss, squeezing the resilient muscles under his hands. Seth closes his teeth on Charlie's bottom lip for one sweet-sharp moment, then pulls away; he chuckles in the back of his throat as he squeezes Charlie's shoulders, one-two-three presses of strong fingers, then lets go and steps back.

There's a dent beside Charlie's eye from Seth's glasses, pulsing with the same beat as his throbbing mouth. Charlie's face tingles from Seth's moustache, his breath is rushing, and Seth is pink-cheeked and grinning as he looks at his feet, shaking his head as he visibly catches his own breath. "Dinner," he mutters, and looks up at Charlie, nodding now. "Definitely. Tell --- please tell the _other_ hot professor I'll see her there."

Charlie nods, trying to get his mouth to work with words again, and doesn't let himself step forward when Seth takes another step back. "When the case is over, we'll figure out when."

"You bet we will." Seth smiles, and walks backwards as Charlie watches him, all the way out the door. After it shuts Charlie takes a deeper breath, touches his pulsating upper lip, and peels himself off the wall.

Amita is standing in the middle of Charlie's office when he gets back, her arms folded and her grin knowing. "A-ha," she says as he crosses to her, and as he curves his hands around her smooth sleek arms she touches his cheek beside his mouth, right where it tingles. She kisses him, her mouth soft and warm, her teeth sharp on his bottom lip, and Charlie's heart jolts a little as it accelerates again; he can't help moaning as he slips his arms around her waist, her breasts soft against his chest, her tongue sliding along his, the ends of her hair brushing over the backs of his hands.

Amita smiles over his mouth and pulls back from the kiss, but only as far as the length of her nose, the rest of her pressing closer. "So, I think we're done here for tonight?"

Her cheek is just as soft and warm under Charlie's hand as he knew it would be, her hair just as silky around his fingers. "You're as brilliant as you are beautiful," he says, and watches her smile.

**|*|*|**

When Charlie steps into the interview room Seth looks up so eagerly and smiles so brightly that Charlie can feel the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in answer. It takes all of his willpower, it takes remembering that Seth _nearly got Don killed_, to keep from smiling back. Charlie stares at Seth as steadily as he can, until the spark in Seth's eyes fades with his smile, until he drops his head. "Hi, Professor," Seth says to the table.

Despite it all, something inside Charlie bends a little. "Ross gave me a letter for you," he offers, reaching for his pocket as he sits.

Seth smiles, still looking down. "Thanks," he mutters. "He must be so disappointed in me."

"I didn't ask." Charlie holds out the letter; Seth glances up just enough to see it. As he reaches for it he deliberately runs two fingers across Charlie's, a warm rasp of skin, and it takes Charlie a moment to jerk away. "I do have--" His voice wavers, and he looks away as he swallows harder than he should have to. "I have a question for you, though."

In his peripheral vision, Charlie can see Seth look up at him, but he keeps his eyes on a dim, featureless corner. "Yeah?"

"When Amita and I --" Charlie rephrases, shaking his head. "When we invited you to dinner, later, did you really think there'd be a later?"

He looks over now, and Seth is smirking a little, his head slightly tilted. "I kinda hoped." His eyes are soft, though. Regretful. "I shouldn't have underestimated you."

"No, you shouldn't have." Not Charlie, and certainly not his math.

Seth's lip curls a little, but he nods. "So," he says, voice slow and careful, "Can I ask a question, too?" He opens his hands as he asks, palms up, fingers extended.

Charlie folds his arms a little more tightly. "I can't guarantee an answer."

"Fair enough." Seth nods. "Math aside, how did you know it was me?"

Charlie ought to point out that he can't put math aside, that it's the center of his understanding, and he should challenge Seth's desire to identify his mistakes, ask if he wants to know so he can get away with some other caper. Instead of either, Charlie shrugs as he says, "I had a hunch."

"A _hunch_." Seth grins, bright in the dim room, his eyes crinkling as if any other time he'd be laughing. "That's not very mathematical."

"Well, it had a certain elegance." Charlie can feel himself smiling. "And there was one particular factor that told me I was on the right track." Remembering it wipes the smile away.

Watching Charlie's face makes Seth's smile vanish too. "What was it?"

"How much I wanted to be wrong." Seth's mouth tightens as they stare across the table at each other, and there's nothing left to say.

After a moment Charlie gets up, steeling himself to say goodbye, but Seth speaks first. "We could've..." He shakes his head. "I would've really liked to draw you two," he says softly.

"Just draw?" Charlie asks before he can stop himself, and Seth shrugs, smiling painfully, curling up his clever hands as he looks down and away.

"Tell Amita..." Seth shrugs again.

"I'll tell her you said hello," Charlie promises. Seth nods, and Charlie turns away.

Amita is waiting for him by the elevators, leaning against the wall and hugging herself. "Hey," Charlie says, tucking his arm around her as he kisses her cheek.

"Hey," she mutters back, her face closed and quiet as the doors open and they step in.

Charlie waits until the elevator doors shut, and a few more moments after that. "Seth says hi." At first Amita's only reaction is a snort, and she stands still for longer than he'd anticipated.

But then she turns, her hair silky along his cheek and chin as she hides her face against his shoulder. "Seth Marlowe," she says softly, muffled by Charlie's jacket. "Not one of my better ideas."

"Technically..." Charlie decides against reminding her that Seth kissed him. "I liked him too. We just... remember determining a function from coordinates? The graph indicated one equation at first, until additional points revealed an entirely different shape."

"Nice analogy, Dr. Eppes," she says a little louder, sounding possibly a little amused, at least less crushed.

"We'll try again sometime," Charlie adds. When Amita looks up unsmiling he thinks he probably should have stopped at the graphing analogy, but she touches his cheek, the pad of her thumb stroking his cheekbone. So he just watches her face as her dark eyes look into his, and even when the elevator door opens she doesn't move so he doesn't either.

Not until she smiles and kisses him quickly, then turns to walk out of the elevator as she slides her hand around his wrist. "We will," she says, looking over her shoulder at him. "But not tonight."

Amita's thumb moves across Charlie's pulse the way she'd stroked his face, and two is a perfectly exceptional number. "Yeah," he agrees, smiling and letting her lead him. "Not tonight."


End file.
